Light's Deadly Kiss
by midknightXXX
Summary: NEW SUMMARY! Ryou was an innocent senior before he was given the Millennium Ring. Now armed with a new phychotic yami, his yami's lover, and the lover's host, trouble will be waiting around every corner... Yaoi and violence. This is a before/after story!
1. Prolouge

Hikari: I had writer's block with A LONG Day, so I started writing, and before long, this came out! I have a great plan as to where this is headed, so I hope you enjoy!

Yamie: Hey Hikari... Why is this so short?

Hikari: It's a prologue, stupid.

Yamie: Shut it...

Hikari: Anyway, please review and tell me if it's any good. I'll continue it if people enjoy it!

Yamie: Yu-Gi-Oh! isn't mine or Hikari's by the way.

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><p>I was scared. No, petrified. There he was. He lay soaked in crimson, his very skin melting away to reveal bones and bloody tissue. His head–long flowing hair, bright cheerful eyes, sly yet innocent grin–was simply gone, blown clean off his lovely face.<p>

I remember when I first met him. He laughed at my sullen face, my death threats, and my life. But his smile was not that of a mocking tone. No, he was utterly joyful. Finally, someone understood him. His pain and suffering everyday was almost equivalent to my own. We got along so well. Hell, we caused so much chaos together! So many screeches and shouts from others as we cackled hysterically and plotted what our next brilliant idea would be. He never turned on me, unlike others. They would glare at me with the sting of a hornet's stinger. It was my fault. Everything and anything was just all my fault. I never knew what exactly, but it was there and I was the cause of it. I was shunned for it. I still don't know what 'it' is. I hope I never find out. If I do, I may never be able to live with myself. Too bad suicide doesn't work for me. Despite my attempted tough guy image, I could never make the fatal blow. Sure, I've come close. So close in fact that I almost did the dirty deed. But no, Ra had other plans for me.

Now I lay on the frozen earth watching snowflakes fall upon his frozen corpse. It's not that cold outside: my eternal agony has made it worse. The sky is dark, littered with glowing polka-dots that mock my suffering.

_Huh._ They say to me. _There's a boy who could use some brightening up._

They shine as if their luminosity will mend my eternal despair. It won't. It's all my fault. He's dead, gone, becoming an angel or devil up above or down below. I'll never tell him why I did it: I'll never describe what my motives were. The truth is there was no motive. No catch. No nothing. I did this because I was weak. I murdered my best friend because I was too frightened to stand up for the one person I cared about the most. One fatal mistake shouldn't cause this much pain…

But it does.

I miss you. I love–no, not friendship love like I'm sure you thought it was–you with all my heart, soul, and being. Why didn't I tell you this as my pale hand dragged a sparkling silver knife via my trench coat pocket through your heart? Because I couldn't. I wasn't permitted to act or speak at that moment. He wouldn't let me. Nor was I when said appendage pulled out an engraved shotgun given to me mere minutes ago and pulled the trigger facing your skull. What was engraved you ask? I'll tell you.

To Ryou,

Not that I think you'll need it, but because it's the favorite of my vast collection. You're the favorite of my collection too. You two were meant for each other I suppose. Take care of each other as I depart you this evening. I'll miss you.

From,

Marik

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><p>~midknightXXX<p> 


	2. Chapter 1

Hikari: Hi there! You may notice that I changed from first to third person during this chapter. Unless I change my mind, the rest of the story will be in third person.

In case there's any future confusion, you already know what even the next bunch of chapters is leading up to. That is the point of a before/after story! Thank you, and enjoy.

Yu-Gi-Oh! isn't mine.

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><p><span>Monday: 14 Days Before<span>

Ryou awoke to the same sound he heard every day; silence. Most people would be driven to the edge of their sanity by the agonizing stillness that filled his tiny one-roomed apartment, but not Ryou. He was used to the feeling of solitude.

He turned his head towards his alarm clock, an old battered piece of junk that, like every morning, didn't play its morning tune.

"I should probably get a new alarm clock…" Ryou murmured groggily, stretching his long and skinny frame skywards and rubbing at his mocha eyes. He repeated that phrase practically every morning, but the task was never completed.

He finally dragged himself out of his warm, cozy bed and headed towards the closet. With a longing glance at his regular clothes, he grabbed his dull school uniform from the bottom of the crumbled heap that made up his closet. Organization wasn't really his forte.

Ryou picked up the navy blue material and pulled it over his head, making sure as to not disturb his long, fairly spiky, and flowing snow-white hair. He never bothered to brush his hair for it was simply a waste of time. Those year old knots would never come out, so why bother trying? Somehow, even though his hair was permanently tangled, it looked clean and healthy. So healthy in fact that people had stopped him multiple times on the street and inquired as to what his secret was.

A sharp pounding on his partially broken door interrupted his train of thought as he raced over to answer it. Opening it, the door's top hinge squealed like a small animal being run over by a steamroller.

Ryou's voice was soft as it was with all adults. "H-hello, how can I help you?"

The man before him was in a gray post man's uniform. He wore a bored expression on his face that looked everlasting and had a dark brown mustache that matched his curly hair and lightless eyes.

"Package for a mister Ryou Bakura," he grunted in a low, monotone voice.

Ryou's shyness lifted ever so slightly. "A package for me? How exciting! I never get mail!"

"Yeah yeah, just sign on the dotted line."

One quick signature later, the man was on his way and Ryou was holding a small brown package. It was no larger than a typical lunchbox.

"To Ryou. Found this in Egypt and thought of you. From dad," Ryou read the sky blue card attached to it slowly.

Opening it, he found something that made his heart skip a beat. It was simply magnificent! The object within the box was a necklace, golden with five spikes hanging off the circular design. In the middle of said design was a pyramid-shaped triangle containing a symbol that looked oddly like an eye. The jewelry had a thin auburn rope tied around it in a loop large enough to fit over Ryou's head. It seemed kind of… Ominous to Ryou, but he ignored that feeling as he slipped it on. He felt powerful wearing it, as if it were trying to protect him. He fingered one of the razor-sharp spikes carefully, fascinated with the intense detail of the craftsmanship.

"Wait…" He dropped the necklace's point and gasped. "I have to get to school! I'll be late!" Ryou, being a perfect straight A+ student, cared deeply about these things. He checked his handy wristwatch to see that he had approximately fifteen minutes to get to school. He took the necklace and placed it cautiously under his undershirt, relieved that it didn't show through.

"I'm bullied enough as it is for my looks and clumsiness… The last thing I need is for them to see this."

Ryou had had a problem attracting bullies since he started at Domino High School. It started on the first day of freshman year when he accidently ran into Ushio, the biggest and ugliest of them all, on his way to his first class. Ryou had been late, worried, and stressed as per usual, so he wasn't looking out as he collided with the larger-than-normal student. Let's just say that Ushio wasn't the forgiving type as Ryou went to his first class of the new school year with a black eye. Ever since that day, Ushio and his gang of thugs would pick on him almost every day. It was such a norm for Ryou that he could place exactly what time Ushio would pick to dump him in the trash or knock his books out of his hands. Even now in his senior year, Ushio hadn't let up. No one would stand up for Ryou because that would simply make them the next target for the bully's rage. It was also the reason why no one ever spoke more than five words to Ryou: they didn't want Ushio to get the wrong idea. Maybe if Ryou's mother wasn't dead or if his father ever came back from his exploration in Egypt, they could complain to the school board. Since neither of those things happened, Ryou figured the best thing to do was live with his mistake. It was a shame that he was too pathetic to stand up for himself.

Pulling his head out of the clouds, Ryou slipped on his ratty gym shoes, made a mental note to fix his door hinge as he closed it, and raced down several flights of stairs in order to get outside and head towards school.

"Just a typical Monday I suppose… Except for," he pulled out his brand new necklace stealthily so no one on the street would see it and slow him down to ask about it.

"Except for you of course."

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><p>Ryou was floating high, higher, highest. The fluffy ball of white beneath him felt comfortable and safe, the perfect place to nap. The sky was spotless, and he was soaring way beyond its limits. He was in space, hair floating upwards and his nimbus gone. He had wings now, the same lovely shade as his beloved cloud. A face appeared in place of the moon, tanned and perfect. Violet eyes lined with black stared down at Ryou as if questioning his very existence. Beach-blond hair was spiked ever-so-slightly in an effortless fashion. Ryou basked in its beauty, vaguely wondering why its features seemed so familiar.<p>

The next part happened without warning.

He could feel himself splitting in two, one in love and the other sickened by the face above. The angered half tore away from Ryou forcing him to scream in sheer agony. A bright glow blinded Ryou, and when it vanished mere seconds later, he wasn't alone. The other being in front of him was almost identical to Ryou with a few slight differences; spikier hair, crimson-tinted eyes, a malicious grin, and wings as dark as the purest night sky. The Ryou duplicate pulled a single black feather from his left wing and threw it towards the face in the sky. Immediately, it shattered into a million pieces and Ryou felt himself fracture as well. The stranger with black wings laughed at him and spoke in a language Ryou could not decipher. Somehow, he could tell that the being was mocking him. His wings vanished and he was falling towards an unpredictable future…

_Ring, ring!_

The sound of the school bell woke Ryou from his nightmare. He stared down at his hands as other students began to file out of class and to their final destination before the end of the day. The teacher began erasing all the notes he had written during the period, notes that Ryou had apparently slept through. It didn't matter to Ryou though. He had bigger issues on his mind.

He had had that dream again…

That was the third time that week he had it. A different setting was played before him each time, but three things always stayed the same; the face in the moon, his 'duplicate', and the falling into an unknown situation. Why did it keep haunting him? What did it mean?

The teacher, noticing that Ryou was still staring at his hands, asked if he was alright. Ryou instantly squeaked a yes and raced towards his final period. In the back of his mind, he kept wondering why this nightmare wouldn't go away, but forgot about it effortlessly as he ran towards gym class.

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><p>"Listen up, maggots! The name of the game is dodge ball! Ushio, you'll be one team captain, and," the scruffy-looking man with biceps that could make a bodybuilder cry took a dramatic pause as he scanned the gym class. It was hard to tell who was who from the hideous pumpkin orange jumpsuits the kids were forced to wear as a gym uniform except for hair. Ryou, being the only kid in the entire school with ghostly pale skin and milk-white hair, was an easy target for the stocky man to spot.<p>

"Please don't pick me please don't pick me please don't pick," but Ryou was interrupted from his silent prayers as the teacher pointed a meaty finger in his direction.

"You will be the other leader. Choose your teams wisely and remember that the winning team gets an automatic A while the losers get F's. Don't have fun: it distracts you from winning. Ushio, you start." With those oh-so-friendly words, he hobbled over towards the bleachers and pulled on his bright pink whistle. According to gossip, it was a gift from his wife. One kid had insulted it, and was now a garbage collector because the rest of his grades dropped so drastically mere days after said comment. The gym teacher had almost as much power as the principle at this school.

"I pick the blonde."

A tall boy with puffy dark blond hair, chocolate eyes, and a vicious glare stood up to face Ushio.

"My name is Joey, you bastard." He then flashed his middle finger before joining the right side of the gymnasium. Of course, since Joey was one of the teacher's favorites, he turned a blind eye at what Joey had done.

Ryou scanned the class of kids trying to remember their names. Most of them he recognized as Ushio's friends, so they were instantly out of the running. He finally settled on a short nerdy child who would no doubt lead their team to their demise. It was better than any of Ushio's pals.

About ten back and forth picks later, it was jocks versus losers. Since Ryou was likely to be the main objective for Ushio, he did his best to hide behind a few kids as the girly whistle blew a shrill note signaling the start of the game.

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><p>Ryou looked left, right, and then left again. He had no one left: they were all sitting on the bleachers alongside the gym teacher. He was alone on his side completely. The opposite side, however, still had Ushio and Joey who were currently gathering all the seemingly soft rubber balls from their side into a convenient pile.<p>

His heart pounded in his ribcage to the point where he worried it would burst. These balls were hard. No, they were rock-solid! With Ushio's good arm, he could throw it at fifty miles per hour! He was dead. There was no way in hell that he could dodge that.

His team, oblivious to Ryou's inner turmoil, cheered him on insanely. Most of them hardly knew the kid, but figured he was their last hope for a decent gym grade.

Ryou could suddenly feel his necklace more prominently through his shirt. It was as if it were trying to get out and show itself to the world.

"How strange…" He murmured with his head tilted downwards to cover his shocked expression.

What happened next was so unexplainable that Ryou almost thought it was a hallucination.

He felt a sharp tug at his body, pain shooting across every organ from his brain to his heart. Next thing he knew, he was watching himself from what felt like the sidelines. Here he was, just standing off to a corner, and yet there he was as well, still playing dodge ball. His body looked…

Darker was the only word to begin to describe it.

His hair had just enough extra spikes to it to make it obvious to Ryou who styled it every morning. His mocha eyes were tinted crimson in a way that didn't seem humanly possible. He looked taller, and his muscles protruded more than ever before despite years of failed attempts to get said look.

This 'stranger' looked just like the man in his crazy dream.

His body moved with the grace of an angel and landed with the perfection of a cat, dodging every ball hurled at him like he was seeing it in slow motion. He grinned maliciously, picked up a single ball, and flicked it towards Joey in a casual manner. It smashed square into his nose only to bounce off and hit Ushio in the stomach.

Faster than you could think something like what the hell is going on, Ryou was no longer outside his body, and the malevolent force was gone. His necklace felt as if it too had disappeared. A ghostly voice whispered laughter in his ear for a few seconds sending chills down Ryou's spine.

Blood poured from Joey's now crooked nose like a faucet that someone forgot to turn off. Ushio lay on his back several feet from where he had been standing gasping for breath. The gym teacher spoke slowly and evenly, his grading pen sitting to his right side.

"Ryou's team has won this round. You maggots can change early if you want while I take these kids to the medical wing. No roughhousing and leave only when the bell sounds unless you want an F."

With that, the thickset man was gone and dragging two injured students alongside him. Ushio had just enough time to whisper one thing in Ryou's ear.

"I'll get you back for this. Just you wait."

Ryou left school that day thinking a few things. First, how was he going to survive his entire senior year without dying by the hands of Ushio? But more importantly, what had happened during that game, and why had he thought he heard a voice?

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><p>Yamie: R&amp;R!<p>

~midknightXXX


	3. Chapter 2

Hikari: Hello readers!

Yamie: We really hope that you enjoy this chapter. Hikari worked her butt off on it!

Hikari: Not too much... But it's definitely one of my better works. In short, I hope you like it!

Yu-Gi-Oh! is absolutely amazing!

...But still not mine...

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><p><span>Friday: 10 Days Before<span>

News had just come from Domino Hospital where Ushio and Joey were currently residing in. While Joey had only made it out with a broken nose, Ushio had received several cracked ribs that his parents had threatened to sue Ryou for. The plus side for the white-haired teen was that if anyone deserved to be sued, it was their gym teacher who had tolerated such violence in the first place. At least Ryou was legally safe for the time being.

Joey had called Ryou a few days ago to congratulate him on signing his own grave. "You do realize that Ushio will show no mercy when he's released, right?" were his exact words.

Surprisingly, none of this intimidation bothered Ryou more than usual. He received daily abuse from other bullies, so he was almost used to it. What really shook him was that voice. It just wouldn't go away now that it had 'helped' him. He heard its cold-hearted laughter multiple times a day ringing in the back of his subconscious, but the moment he tried to focus on it, it vanished.

It didn't help that his bizarre dreams were intensifying each passing night. It felt as if they were screaming at him that something big–he didn't know whether it was good or bad–was on its way. One night, Ryou was underwater and the next, on an alien planet. There was always different scenery, but same tiring plot would constantly repeat itself.

He had an extremely memorable morning that Friday.

The oddness had started the moment he awoke. He felt as if someone was poking him repeatedly in the back. Not that that was possible since he lived alone, but the feeling wouldn't go away, so he finally did his annual morning cat-like stretch. It was when he rubbed at his weary chocolate eyes with the back of his left hand that he saw _him_.

Standing before him was the man that kept appearing in his dreams, the man that had injured Ushio and Joey that day in gym class. He looked translucent in a sense that you could see him and yet see right through him if you desired. The man wore an irritated frown, his snowy eyebrows colored similarly to his overly-spiked hair. He looked rather silly in ducky-printed footy pajamas with muscles protruding in every possible way, but what petrified Ryou was that they were exactly the same as the ones he was currently wearing. The stranger looked fit enough to throw Ryou across the entire width of the apartment complex. In short, he looked like Ryou on steroids, or something along those lines.

"Get up, yadonoushi. Your alarm clock is still broke by the way. You should really–"

An ear-shattering screech rang throughout the tiny apartment as Ryou clasped his pale hands over his now widened eyes and rocked back and forth in fear. What was he seeing? What was he _hearing_? There was no one else with him… And all the doors were securely locked! How had this stranger broken in? Also, why was he so formal with Ryou as if they were old friends?

"Ra, you'll wake the neighbors if you don't put a sock in it." He looked twice as aggravated as before, his light face turning red with fury although his voice remained cool and airy. The man looked as if he wanted to grab Ryou and literally shove a sock in his opened mouth, but held back for some reason.

Ryou, out of breath and worried about losing his voice right before school, finally calmed down after around ten minutes. During this time, the spirit had rolled his crimson eyes more times than one could count using both fingers and toes. Ryou looked up at the ghostly presence with terror and curiosity written on his features.

"W-who are you?"

The stranger rolled his eyes for the hundredth as if this were the dumbest question the teen could possibly ask.

"I think you already know who I am."

Deep down, Ryou did know what this man was. He had had a sinking feeling about it ever since the dreams had started… It just didn't seem possible, or even real for that matter, so he had ignored his suspicions.

The presence sighed wearily. "My name is Bakura, and I am you." Ryou practically fainted at these words, but Bakura continued breezily like he had rehearsed this a thousand times. "You do as I say, and only as I say. If so, we'll get along famously. If not, I'll do to you what I demonstrated on your dodge ball opponents. It's quite simple really."

"Wait a minute!" Ryou was shocked and a bit insulted. He burst out in a way he had never done to anyone before, let alone a dangerous ghost that he knew nothing about its capabilities. "You can't just barge into someone's house, give virtually no information about yourself, and expect that I'll become you personal slave! Who are you, what are you, why did you harm Ushio and Joey, and why did you wait this long to finally show yourself?"

Bakura rolled his eyes, a casual smirk making its way to his lips. "I told you, I'm Bakura. If I explained what I was in detail, you wouldn't believe me. I already said why I hurt them so pay attention already. It displayed what you can expect if you defy me. As for your last question, it's amusing to see weak mortals squirm."

Ryou ran this information through his head for a minute before responding, his long fingers casually draping themselves through his tangled mess of bed-head hair. "Please explain what you are to me. I'm a good listener." He figured a friendly approach was the only way to get the information he wanted from what he suspected was a mass murderer.

"Forget it, yadonoushi. All you need to know is that I am a spirit that came with your beloved necklace which, by the way, is called the Millennium Ring in case you care. Only you can see me in this state, and I'm here to–" He broke off abruptly as if he'd spoken too much. "That's none of your business, mortal. Aren't you late for something anyway?" His eyes darted towards the alarm clock which now read eight o'clock.

Realizing that it was a school day, Ryou jumped out of bed and raced over to his crowded closet to grab his uniform. The action of putting on his clothes and proceeding to shovel a breakfast power bar down his throat didn't stop him from watching the spirit float alongside him while he rushed. It was rather annoying the way Bakura was so carefree, but even worse that he had no time to argue with him.

"I'm not done with you… I want answers, and I will get them."

"Would you settle for something like I'm your imaginary friend?" Bakura asked with a wave of sarcasm.

"No. I may have school now, but you better be here when I get home. Or maybe not so I'll never have to see your face again." Ryou paused for a moment. "By the way, are you associated with my crazy dreams at all? And why did you go through a costume change?"

Bakura made a shooing motion with his left hand in exasperation although what Ryou had said was true: when Ryou had come back from changing, he saw Bakura wearing the exact same outfit he currently was. It was disheartening to see that it looked much better on him, almost as if it were destined to be worn by him. His muscles protruded in the best of ways, and the top buttons were undone to reveal his toned pale chest.

"I don't have to listen to your whining. Yadonoushi, you do realize that I could end your life on the spot if I wanted to, right?"

"But you won't, will you? Also, quit calling me that."

"I can call you whatever I want…" Bakura muttered in a defeated monotone voice as he trailed Ryou out of his apartment and onto the school route. It was true… Something about this boy and the way he was so confident around Bakura fascinated him to no end. No one else he had met got this far without being driven to insanity…

Right before he exited, Bakura noticed a small newspaper ad in the corner of the page that had been laid out in front of Ryou's room. It caught his eye, so he quickly stopped to skim it.

_Only this month, get your chance to meet Shadi the Special Shaman Miracle Worker! _

_He can communicate with dead relatives, predict the future, and even exchange your mortal soul with that of another being! Thousands of popular celebrities have visited him and speak nothing but praise for his work._

_For more information or to schedule your own private meeting, call the following number._

Below the ad listed a common telephone number followed by a warning stating that Shadi would not promise that his future predictions were accurate, although he was confident in his other abilities. It seemed like any other advertisement that stretched the truth in order to gain a quick buck, but it was still interesting to the spirit. Bakura made a mental note of this as he hovered out of the cramped room and into the sunlight and cool breeze that greeted him.

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><p>The quiet–borderline silent–teacher's voice broke the obnoxious shatter that filled the small science classroom. "Please open your binders and turn to page thirty four. There you will find your next lab assignment. This is a partner project, so find a friend up and begin."<p>

Ryo, however, wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. He had been having the worse day at school that he could remember. The main problem was not the bullies that had thrown him in a random locker, making him completely miss second period as he tried to escape. No, the issue had a specific name.

Bakura.

Not only was he useless as he laughed his head off at Ryou's pain, but he also prevented him from focusing on any of the classes he actually attended. Although Bakura looked like a typical tough guy, he was a whiner at heart, complaining about every miniscule detail he could spot.

/Yadonoushi, I'm bored. Let's ditch this place and go have some real fun./ He also had an annoying way of speaking when they were in public. No one could hear his voice–or see him for that matter–but Ryou could hear it echo through his head like a gigantic drum beating the crap out of his brain resulting in the nastiest of headaches.

/No, go away./

/Come on! We can go puppy kicking, cat torching, baby killing–/

/WHAT?/ Ryou had to grip his desk and lower his gaze not to let his shocked emotions show to the rest of the class.

/A newbie, huh? It's great, the screams of pain, and all the blood… It's even better on a cool day with the sweet crimson heated to just the right temperature so that it just slides down your–/

Ryou, luckily covered by his bangs, turned green. He fought his gagging down to a minimum before responding to the confused spirit. /No. Just… No./

/But–/

"Ryou, want to pair up with me?" A sickly sweet voice that was known for speaking nothing but lies, rumors, and gossip broke Ryou from his trance. He looked up quickly to see none other than Anzu Masaki, the school's most popular 'it' girl. Ryou, being at the bottom of the social food chain, was surprised at this notion. Everyone who was anyone would die just to have her look in their direction, and here she was asking a loser to partner up with her.

"S-sure, let's work over here." He pointed to an abandoned table with supplies already on it. With a swift nod from Anzu, they were walking over. Actually, Anzu was walking and Ryou was tripping over his feet.

/Smooth moves Casanova./

/Shut it./

Once they had gotten situated, Anzu leaned over towards Ryou, her shirt that barely met school requirements exposing the top half of her breasts. She blinked and twirled a strand of hair in a flirty way that usually turned on whatever guy she was speaking with.

"Hey Ryou… I want to ask you something."

Being the model student he was expected to be, Ryou was in the middle of the experiment when he heard these words. He paused and looked over at Anzu, face turning tomato red.

"W-what is it?"

She pouted her lip-glossed lips before continuing. "I'm hosting a party tomorrow night and only the hottest in the grade will be attending. What I really want to know is if you will be one of my guests."

What? Did Ryou hear her correctly? Why was he of all people invited? His face went crimson as he opened his mouth to decline…

…When he heard his voice say, "Of course I'll be attending. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

While Anzu giggled and clapped her hands in glee, Ryou did a half turn to face Bakura who was looking very smug.

/I'm not going./

Bakura's face instantly turned stone-cold. /Oh yes you are. You need to get out of that ghost town of a house and meet some new people./ He was starting to sound like Ryou's father… /Plus parties mean free beer. I haven't had a drink in three thousand years…/ Never mind.

Wait, did he just say three _thousand_ years?

The bell sounded just then, and Anzu was gone in a flash. That left Ryou alone to finish the incomplete experiment, clean it all up, and make it to his next class that began in about five minutes. On top of all this, he had Bakura screwing with his life in ways he didn't want. Ryou had a reason why he didn't go to parties like these, a reason that loosely tied with why he never drank alcohol. Plus the mystery with Bakura seemed to escalate each passing minute.

"What have you gotten me into, Bakura?" His response was heart-chilling sniggers.

Bakura paused his laughter long enough to stare out the window for a few minutes as Ryou frantically finished and began to clean his experiment. There was something about that kid… Maybe it was his aura? Anyway, there was just something that made Bakura want to tell him everything about himself down to the most sacred of secrets. It was dangerous to be around this boy and yet…

He was irresistible in every way.

His soft flowing crème-colored hair, his innocent mocha eyes, his body frame that just screamed out for a hug, this boy was everything Bakura wasn't. It was like ying and yang, or yami and hikari. That's what he'd call Ryou from now on instead of yadonoushi. Hikari had a nicer ring to it.

Bakura, not knowing what else to do, decided that sticking with him was his best option for now. Would this boy become useful in the future? What was his future? Scratch the second question. He knew why he was here. He was here to steal Ryou's body and make it his own. That's why he was staying with the white-haired teen…

/Hurry it up, hikari./ He muttered exasperatedly.

Startled, Ryou's head shot up, banging into the sink's faucet. It appeared that he had dropped something down the drain. He rubbed at his scalp, an adorable frown drawn on his pouting lips.

…Right?

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><p>Yamie: R&amp;R!<p> 


	4. Chapter 3

Hikari: Wow, this chapter is my longest so far! I worked **_REALLY_** hard on this, so please enjoy!

Yamie: By the way, "Baka" means something along the lines of stupid.

Also, Speaking 'like this' is when a character thinks to themselves.

One final thing; Marik is the hikari and Mariku is the yami in this story. Like that isn't a spoiler for this chapter. ;)

Hikari: Yu-Gi-Oh! is NOT mine. If it was, I'd get rid of all the filter episodes.

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><p><span>Saturday: 9 Days Before<span>

"Baka, what do you think?" Ryou was holding up a blue and white striped t-shirt next to a plain teal button-down. 'Baka', also known as Bakura, was in Ryou's bedroom helping him get dressed for Anzu's party. The entire day had been filled with Ryou's pathetic attempts at giving Bakura a nickname. "It shows that we're true friends," he had proclaimed.

"I think you should quit calling me that! Do you even know what it means?"

"…But I think it's cute! What if I called you something like Fluffy? Well, you do look like a Fluffy…"

"Not on your life."

Ryou pouted at the floating spirit. Sure it had only been one day since they had met, but it felt so much longer. Before he met Bakura, he never realized how lonely his life was. Even though Bakura was loud, rude, and still wouldn't explain very much about himself, he was the best company Ryou had ever had. He filled the void that had grown larger and larger as the years had passed without his parents.

Bakura, noticing that Ryou was spacing out as usual, snapped his fingers in front of Ryou's face causing the white-haired teen to leap backwards several feet.

"Come on, hikari! What don't you understand about free booze? The earlier you get there, the more you can guzzle before someone calls the cops!"

Ryou looked positively appalled. "I'm only eighteen!"

"And your point is…?"

"You are not allowed to drink any sort of alcoholic beverage until you are twenty-one years old," Ryou stated as if quoting a rule book.

Bakura took a minute to think before he came up with a comeback. "Rules were made to be broken!"

"Not true!"

"It is so true!"

"Not."

"Is."

"Not!"

"I'm thousands of years older than you, so I would think that I'd know!" Bakura blurted out. He had never had the patience to deal with petty arguments like these.

Ryou was silent, wide mocha eyes glancing over at the ghostly presence. Bakura clasped a hand over his mouth as if he had spoken too much.

What did Bakura mean? No one lived that long, obviously! Well, this was a spirit Ryou was thinking about…

"How old are you exactly?" He spoke aloud as he continued his train of thought. "What _are_ you?"

Bakura gave a forced grin that turned out like a pained frown. "Isn't it time for you to–"

"No it's not. I have about an hour until Anzu's party, and I want some answers this instant." To prove his point, he sat on his leather couch and kicked his feet up. The wooden coffee table in front of him shook slightly from the impact.

Bakura clenched his teeth, but after seeing the look of determination glistening in Ryou's eyes, finally caved. After all, he had no clue how long he was destined to be with this kid. He might as well know a little bit about himself…

"Three thousand years ago, I lived in Egypt."

Ryou sat intently, eyes fixed on Bakura begging for more information. However, after a few minutes, he realized that was all that Bakura wanted to say.

"And…" Ryou hinted.

"There is no and. That's all you need to know about me."

Ryou's eyes got wide in shock, fists clenched tightly. "That's all you want to tell me? That was hardly anything! Aren't we supposed to be friends? All I know about you is that your name is Bakura, you live in the Millennium Ring, you're some kind of five thousand year old ghost thing, and that you used to live in Egypt!"

"Three."

Ryou turned his head up sharply, eyes blazing in fury. "Excuse me?"

Bakura shook his head and put a bony hand up to his lips to hide his smirk. "I'm only three thousand years old. I thought you were the listening type, hikari! You make me feel so elderly!"

Ryou had nothing to say to this. Bakura wasn't going to go into any more detail, that much was as clear as day. The question was why he wouldn't do it. What, was he a mass murderer in the past? Maybe he was a serial killer! Was Ryou his next victim?

'No!' He chastised mentally. 'Bakura is nice, kind, and listens to me better than anyone else. He's just a little mysterious, that's all. There's nothing to be suspicious about!'

With those thoughts in mind, Ryou decided it was time to change. He made a spur of the moment decision and grabbed the striped shirt that he had abandoned on the floor a few minutes ago. After he went into the bathroom to change, he came out looking so fabulous that Bakura had to do a double take. Ryou's shirt hugged his skin in all the right places, showing how skinny he was yet flowing enough to give the illusion of faint muscles despite his small frame. His gray leather pants–it was a mystery as to where such an innocent kid got them–followed his shirt's example by giving the appearance of muscles. Bakura, feeling like he needed to critic the perfected look, searched for flaws.

"You'll be chilly unless you wear a jacket." He floated over to the opened coat room and pointed to a cerulean colored jacket with a fancy collar.

Ryou grabbed the coat, threw on a pair of gym shoes–he didn't own any other pairs after all–and opened the front door to exit. Bakura tried to say something to him, but the door's high-pitched squeak drowned it out.

"What?"

Bakura rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk on his face. "You didn't think that I'd let you forget the most important part, did you?"

Ryou scratched his head and cocked it to one side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

A pointed finger in the direction of the coffee table reminded Ryou the obvious. There lay the beautiful Egyptian artifact, its golden frame polished to perfection. Ryou darted into the apartment and slipped it on under his shirt, relieved that it still didn't show through.

"Now we can exit, right Bakura?"

"Do you have a phone?"

After Ryou ran in the house to grab his cell phone, he repeated his question to Bakura, exasperated. Bakura did a final check of the building before nodding his head. He brushed his fingers over his snowy locks in a failed attempt to straighten the spikes out. A mischievous grin painted his features as he eyed Ryou's phone.

"Let's party."

* * *

><p>His violet eyes widened with pain as images blurred before him. Were they visions, or just random nothings like usual? There was a girl, a brown-haired girl… An invite with a rosy pink envelope was in her hand. She grinned and lowered her shirt as far as it would go. There was something being said, but he couldn't hear it. Accessing memories was such a taxing job… He tried again putting more focus into it this time. She poked him square in the forehead and spoke.<p>

"You're coming tonight, aren't you?"

He lifted his head from the ratty couch he was laying on, finally getting the information he needed. The letter, where was that letter? Where did that damned host hide it? He scrambled around the shabby one-roomed apartment in a frantic search, tripping over his large black combat boots in the process. He knocked papers off the middle coffee table where his violet trench coat lay, shoving unpaid bills, junk mail, and other things into a tipped over garbage can in the process.

"Where the hell are you, you stupid paper?" He smashed his fist on the table making a mountain of crumbled food wrappers and more envelopes fall onto the carpeted floor. There, under the mess, was what he was looking for. It was the girl's party invitation, the one from his host's memories. Anzu. Her name was Anzu. She was in a lot of his host's classes; the little slut who wouldn't stop winking at him and twirling her annoying mass of greasy brown locks. How could he forget that?

_RING RING!_

The phone, now where was that thing? More searching, more papers, and there it was under everything, of course. He'd have to have his host clean up the clutter later.

"What do you want?" He spoke in a deep voice trying to threaten whoever had called him. He was busy! Collar ID was a waste of time for him since he never bothered to check anyway.

The voice that responded was familiar to the man, too familiar in fact. It was loud and rude, yet cunning and clever. He grinned in a way he hadn't done for years as he pictured its trademark smirk.

"What, can't an old friend call without such a rude response?" A bout of laughter sounded, colored dark by his deep voice before he stopped abruptly. "Look, let's cut to the chase. By answering the phone, I can tell that you've found a body and by hearing my voice, you can tell that I have too." The voice paused, uncertain as to how it would follow those words. "My hikari is going to a party tonight, a girl named Anzu is hosting. You know her?"

The man holding the phone clenched it tightly in excitement. That meant that they were close to each other. What were the odds? "Yes, my host was invited as well."

"Excellent." A pause lasted for a minute before he continued. "I need to go; my hikari doesn't realize that I'm in possession of the body. Ha, he doesn't even know I _can_ be in possession! He's a real dumb one, but there are a few things about him that interest me… Maybe you should meet him... He's fascinating, really." His voice sounded distant.

"I don't care about your host and you shouldn't either. I know nothing about mine, and you don't see me complaining. Forget him, and get to the Ra damned party already. I've missed you…" The phone was starting to dent in the man's strong grip. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he held them in for fear that his heavy eyeliner would smear.

"You're no fun as usual, my love. I'll see you there, and Mariku?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't start chugging beer without me. I have a good idea for a drinking game." Mariku could picture him winking at him, only not in the annoying way that Anzu did to his host daily. It was just like the old days, carefree yet loving. His heart swelled with thoughts of how the night would play out.

"Just remember the plan, Bakura. Don't let your host get in our way." Mariku heard a light sigh before a click on the other line and hung up. He remembered how, so many years ago, they had tried this plan, a plan to finally get back together after thousands of years of being apart. Now, by some miracle, they were going to see each other again. He should be ecstatic, shouldn't he? He had missed Bakura to no end! Then why was he so infuriated? No, he knew why. He could sense it in the white-haired man. But no, he had to be wrong. Bakura had said it himself long ago, they were soul mates! Mariku ran a tanned hand through his bleach-blond hair in deep thought.

So why was Bakura taking such a keen interest in this host of his? It boggled Mariku's mind. Wasn't he better than any other pathetic mortal Bakura found on the street?

As long as Bakura remained in control of his host the entire time and as long as his dumbass of a hikari didn't come out, they would be fine. The last thing Mariku needed was his slut of a hikari attracting more mates to him in a vain attempt at happiness. Prostitution wasn't the answer! It simply annoyed Mariku who was left as the one to dispose of them.

The slut's name, what was it again? Malik? No, it was Marik, so grotesque and disgustingly similar to his own name. Mariku would make sure that Marik would never see the light of day again, especially with Bakura so close to him. Finally, they would be reunited!

And nothing would get in his way.

* * *

><p>One extremely long stroll due to the fact that Ryou didn't have enough money to pay for a bus or taxi later, both he and Bakura arrived at Anzu's house. No, more like Anzu's mansion. Painted a shade lighter than Ryou's hair, the house had many turrets and fancy plants hung outside of it giving an elegant feel to the abode. It had approximately three floors, not counting their mammoth sized basement, and around forty-seven rooms. (It's amazing what you hear people talking about during a typical lunchtime in solitude.)<p>

"Close your mouth, hikari. It's downright embarrassing." Bakura rolled his eyes, unimpressed with the abode. He'd seen much more graceful structures in Egypt.

Ryou, noticing that he was the only one gawking at the sheer mass of the house, looked at the ground awkwardly. The largest buildings he'd ever seen were in books or movies. This blew them all out of the water.

Walking into the house, the first thing Ryou noticed was the sound. Music blasted from surround-sound speakers, switching from pop to heavy metal in a matter of minutes. The noise was deafening, the kind that only teenagers could withstand. He didn't keep up with what music was popular, so he had no idea what song was on currently.

Lights, streamers, glitter, and anything else you could imagine was draped along the walls and staircases. Wine coolers and beer bottles were located in the back corner of the enormous dance floor. If he had a dollar for each empty beer bottle on the floor, he'd be able to buy a bigger apartment and a fancy new car.

"Watch it, loser!" A boy slurred to his right as he knocked into Ryou's shoulder. Ryou moved away as per instinct while Bakura stiffened. It sickened him that Ryou's first instinct was to run away from the unknown.

It occurred to Ryou then that he had no one to talk to at this party and that no one wanted to talk to him. Noticing the jock group eyeing him and suspecting that Ushio was among them, he decided to take refuge on the second floor which seemed less crowded than the first.

"Hey hot stuff. Looking for a date?" A girl whispered seductively in Ryou's ear causing the white-haired teen to jump. He whirled around to come face-to-face with the second sluttiest girl of Domino High. Nosaka Miho, deemed Miho for short, with her long bluish purple hair tied back in a messy ponytail to keep out of her face.

"I… I mean… I'm not…" Ryou had no idea how to answer her question. He didn't like her, he was–

"Come on, I'm the reason why you were invited in the first place. I've always had my eye on you, the cute little shy kid in the corner, so I called up my best buddy Anzu and asked if she'd let you come. I'll bet you're wonderful in a bed, hmm? Let's test my theory right now…" Her nails, painted pink to match the miniskirt and v-neck top she was wearing, clawed at Ryou's hair. It was palpable that she had had one too many sips of alcohol. Ryou was petrified. What was going on? How was he to handle such a situation? He was about to start hyperventilating when Miho suddenly dropped her hands.

"Tristan, I had no idea you'd be here! Come on; let's go rock the bed if you know what I mean…" In a flash, she was running after a tall brown-haired boy who embraced her before carrying her off to another room downstairs.

Ryou took the opportunity of being alone to run into the nearest bathroom before breaking down on the toilet's closed seat. His heart was pounding out of his chest and sweat rolled down his forehead.

Bakura, who had been watching the mess before him the whole time, stood next to Ryou in his ghostly form.

"So…" He began awkwardly.

"I… I need to tell you something, Baka…" Ryou looked up slowly.

"If you promise to never call me that again, then you may proceed."

"I promise… Bakura, this is really hard for me to say since not even my dad knows this, no one knows this, but I'm… I'm–"

"Gay?"

"Gay. Wait, what? How did you know that?" Bakura's eyes flashed and he smirked in a way that meant he knew something Ryou didn't.

"You seem to have forgotten that we're sharing a body now, Ryou. Despite the fact that we're two different people, we generally share the same mind. I've been alive for thousands of years more than you, so I can easily shield my thoughts. You however…" He paused dramatically, still smiling. "You are absolutely awful at it! It's been on your mind pretty much since I first made myself known to you."

Ryou glared at Bakura who was now laughing his head off. Ryou didn't see any humor in this at all.

"So you've been keeping things from me? Is that how our friendship is going? What else are you keeping from me?" He shrieked the last part before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. If Bakura had been solid, he would have smacked right into it. Being a spirit however, he passed right through the door. Quick as a wink, he took control of Ryou's body to stop him from making a scene at the party, a scene he knew the boy would regret later on.

'Whatever, I'll deal with Ryou later. Where's Mariku? Is he even here yet?'

* * *

><p>Ryou saw darkness. He felt darkness. He was darkness. It was as if someone had turned off all the lights in his vision as well as tore himself away from his body. He sat in pitch black unable to move or feel around for some source of light. That didn't stop him from thinking though. This had happened to him once before, how long ago was that? Did time pass in this new shadowy land? Also, was he all alone?<p>

Wait… Where was Bakura?

* * *

><p>"Tristan, get some more beers for me and this lovely lady over here," slurred a commanding voice. The poor brunette had become Marik's slave the moment he entered the establishment, fifty-two minutes late on the dot. The first thing he had done was not greet Anzu when she waved at him, but to make a beeline for Miho, Tristan's girl. It was one of his hobbies after all: stealing another person's love interest was what he lived for. It was just so easy! It always had been for him, ever since he was in diapers…<p>

Suddenly, he felt himself go numb. Miho was saying something to him, but he didn't hear her. He couldn't see Tristan glaring at him anymore either. The music seemed to vanish along with the flashing lights. Everything seemed to just fade away…

* * *

><p>"I swear to Ra, if Mariku stood me up…" Bakura had been searching the house for the last two hours with no signs of the blonde nutcase. He was beginning to lose hope when–<p>

"There you are, you moron! What the hell took you so long?" Not that Bakura cared. It had been about a thousand years since he had seen the handsome man and to be honest, he was still just as sexy, if not, then sexier.

Mariku didn't bother to answer Bakura. He merely grabbed him in a hug before they locked lips in a passionate kiss. Mariku had missed this feeling, this tingling of his tongue, so much…

"W-what the hell are those guys doing?"

"Are they kissing? That's so gross!"

"I thought Marik was straight…"

Both the white-haired teen and the blonde looked up to see themselves surrounded by modern-day school children gawking at them. It was quite disturbing, especially for Bakura and his anger issues…

"What the fuck do you think you're staring at? Go away! Shoo! Scram!" He waved his hand in a fanning motion hoping that they'd get the message. Sadly, they didn't. A familiar bluish purple haired girl with a skinny frame broke into the ring and ran up to Mariku.

"Marik, baby, what are you doing? You told me to wait in the room, remember?"

Mariku scratched his head. He didn't remember his host saying that, but it didn't really matter, now did it? Besides, he was terrible at reading memories. It gave him so many migraines.

"Get lost you pathetic piece of slutty shit. Go make out with someone who cares." With that, he grabbed Bakura's hand and shoved through the crowd of people until they were outside. Back indoors, gossip was spreading like wildfire that Marik and Ryou were gay for each other. Via texting, the entire school knew in less than ten minutes.

"I'm sorry Mariku… This was a bad idea. I didn't think about how our hikaris–"

"Wait, what did you say? They're hosts, Bakura. It's nothing more, nothing less, okay?" Mariku's eyes bore into Bakura's making him fumble for the correct words.

"R-right, sorry about that. I didn't think about how our hosts would impact those around us." Bakura's crimson eyes no longer gleamed with the joy that had when they first saw each other. He was ashamed that he'd make such a huge error on such an important night.

"It's okay, my host probably has to get home anyway," Mariku huffed.

"Wait, we can still hang out! We could go to a local bar, go clubbing, and maybe even settle in my hikari's house. It'll be fun."

Mariku spun around and downright glared at his lover. Bakura shrunk a little bit under the intense gaze. "W-what's wrong?"

"You said it again. Why did you give _it_ a nickname? Why do you keep talking about your host? What about me and our meeting tonight and–" His voice cracked and he froze, not wanting to continue. He had said enough to get the point across.

Bakura forced a chuckle. "Look, there's nothing going on between me and my host. That's ridiculous! It's all in your head! Come on, let's just go –"

"No, I don't want to go anywhere with you. Not today at least. When you've shoved that damn host out of your head, give me a call. You should know the number, unless of course your host distracts you." Mariku knew he was being overly sensitive, but he wouldn't stop himself. He had waited patiently for the moment they'd meet after so many years, and this was _not_ how he pictured things to go. His patience had finally run out.

"Goodbye Bakura. I hope you make the right choice, because I will not put up with this host business. I ignored Marik easily because I always waited for you, but if I'm truly not worth it, then by all means go try making out with your 'hikari'. I'd love to see how a spirit makes out with a solid object!"

Bakura's mouth hung open in pure shock. Never had Mariku spoken so out of turn like this. He was always quiet and passionate, but outspoken? Not at all no matter what Bakura did. He was the type of person who bottled up their emotions and only let them out during extremely rare circumstances.

'Then this must be one of those times…'

When he looked up, Mariku was gone, violet cape flowing behind him and jet-black combat boots stomping on the pavement. He considered running after him, but held back.

Did he really have feelings for his hikari? Even over the one man he has said years ago was worth his very life?

"One thing's clear… I have a lot of thinking to do…"

* * *

><p>Yamie: R&amp;R! Reviews make the world go 'round. :)<p>

~midknightXXX


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